The journey to the Silver Coast was a decision made under duress, yet Lucien couldn't shake the feeling that it was inevitable. The estate, with its silent halls and creeping shadows, felt like a prison now—a place where the walls were closing in. There was nothing left for him here but the looming specter of the past and the weight of the family legacy. As Ravian prepared the necessary provisions, Lucien stood at the edge of the Verelion Estate, looking out over the grounds, his mind swirling with uncertainty.
He had always believed that the estate would be his foundation, the place from which he could rebuild. But now it was nothing more than a relic of a broken legacy, a place of rot that held him back. The Silver Coast, with its dark secrets and mystics, felt like the only path forward—a place where answers might lie buried beneath the centuries of silence.
It was only when Ravian approached, his steps steady and purposeful, that Lucien turned his attention away from the estate. His older brother's face was hard, his features set in a mask of determination. In the dim light of the evening, Ravian looked every bit the warrior he had become, his dark cloak billowing around him like the shadows he so often walked in.
"We're ready," Ravian said, his voice low, but there was an edge to it—a sharpness that made Lucien pause.
"How much longer?" Lucien asked, already sensing the weight of the decision in the air.
"Not long," Ravian replied, his tone taut with urgency. "We leave at dawn. Elira has already prepared the necessary documents for travel, and I've arranged for a few trusted allies to accompany us. But that's all. We can't trust anyone else at this point."
Lucien nodded, though a part of him felt uneasy. The fewer people who knew about their mission, the better. But the silence between them lingered, as though the very air held its breath for what was to come. He glanced once more at the Verelion Estate, now cloaked in the night, its broken towers stretching up toward the stars like the remnants of a forgotten dream.
"Let's not waste any more time," Lucien said, turning away. "We'll leave before dawn, then."
Ravian gave a sharp nod and turned to leave, but before he could take more than a few steps, Lucien called out.
"Ravian," he said, his voice carrying a weight of its own. "This path we're taking… we don't know what's waiting for us. The Mystics are dangerous, and the Silver Coast holds more than just answers. I don't want to drag you into something you didn't sign up for."
Ravian stopped, his broad shoulders stiffening slightly, but he didn't turn around. "Lucien, you don't have to carry this burden alone. We're family. We've always been. Whatever this is, whatever it becomes, I'll stand beside you."
The words were simple, but they resonated deeply within Lucien. Family. In all their dysfunction, their crumbling legacy, it was the one constant he could hold onto.
"Thank you," Lucien whispered, his voice barely audible.
With that, Ravian left, and Lucien was left to himself again in the silent courtyard. The weight of their mission pressed on him, but beneath it, there was something else—a quiet pull, an echo of something ancient and buried within him. The creature, the ancient entity tied to his bloodline, stirred in the depths of his soul. He could feel it there, waiting, watching. And he knew, deep down, that his fate was entwined with it in ways he had yet to fully understand.
The night passed slowly, the hours stretching long as Lucien lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. The wind howled outside, rattling the shutters, as though the very world itself was preparing for what was to come. It was a storm, he realized, a storm both in the world and within himself. And it was only by stepping into that storm that he would find the answers he sought.
---
The next morning, as the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, Lucien stood at the edge of the Verelion Estate, ready to leave behind the shadows of the past. Ravian and Elira were already waiting, their faces etched with determination. There was no turning back now.
A caravan of horses stood nearby, packed with supplies for the journey. The road to the Silver Coast would be long, treacherous, and uncertain. But it was the only path that led to the truth.
Lucien mounted his horse, feeling the weight of the journey settle upon him. The road ahead would not be kind, but it was the only way forward. And with his family by his side, and the uncertain promise of the Mystics awaiting them, Lucien felt the stirrings of something more—something ancient and powerful—that would guide him through the darkness.
As they rode toward the unknown, Lucien felt the pull of destiny more strongly than ever before. The storm was coming, and with it, the answers he had long sought. But there was one truth he held onto with all his heart:
They were not alone.
And they would face whatever came together.